


deliverance

by thestuffedalligator



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drabble, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 20:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestuffedalligator/pseuds/thestuffedalligator
Summary: “We’ll deliver anywhere, even to the gods themselves.”Nobody told him that people would take him up on it.





	deliverance

“We’ll deliver anywhere, even to the gods themselves.”

It was a stupid thing to say, but his mouth had gotten away on him. He wasn’t expecting people to take him up on it.

***

“Well of course they’re having troubles if you’re relying on owls for your bloody post.” He swings his hat at the cluster of owls perched on top of the Vauxhall and sends them scattering. He turns back and grins sunshine at the skinny blonde at the door, who suddenly finds herself wishing that she’d put on something more than her bathrobe before she answered the door (and a small part of her, which she’d never admit to, wishes she wore something less). “Letter for Mr. H. Potter, the cupboard under the stair, number 4 Privet Drive, madam.”

***

“All that is gold does not glitter,” the wizard says. It sounds like a warning.

“But wouldn’t it be wonderful if it did?” Moist says, pulling on the collar of the jacket. “Anywho. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, son of Arador, son of Argonui, son of…” He flips the envelope over. “...a bitch, is this all one person?”

***

It takes him a full two weeks of scoping out the building before he’s able to get into the bookshop of A.Z. Fell & Co. “Mister Fell? Letter for-”

He freezes, because seeing a client strewn against a couch in the backroom of a bookshop in the embrace of a very gangly twink is not something he intends to make a habit of disturbing.

He very carefully closes the door. “I’ll come back later, then,” he announces to nobody in particular.


End file.
